Fading Spiritual
by doilyhands
Summary: Christopher's health declines in front of his eyes and those of his lovers.
1. Stone By Stone

**Story**: Fading Spiritual**  
Part One:** Stone By Stone**  
Pairing:** Implied Christopher/Ganymede J/C D/C**  
Raitng:** ha**R**da**R**k**  
Warnings:** Angst, deathfic, self-mutilation__

"You were my everything  
My apparitional faith  
Where are you when I am screaming to my God  
What am I coming to"  
-Emilie Autumn 'Castle Down'  


Christopher pushed his face further under the covers, under the pillows. Even the far-away flickering candlelight was too bright.  
Too bright. Like green eyes in a perfect place. Had to be there, ahd to do something. Had to do something to himself. A ghost of a reflection he didn't really have, and in the dark- he couldn't see it anyway.

His body was thin, thinner than Jalil's, and that was when _everbody_ decided to worry. By worry, Christopher meant they tried to force food to stay inside of him, found any sharp object and took it away, all alcohol was gone... Any distraction was locked away in a kitchen cabinet some place far out of reach.

Out of reach. He'd been reaching out for so long, his arms had lengthened and he couldn't see the good in front of himself.  
He'd been chasing shadows with weak wine and warm ale, ghosts in his mind holding hope and sorrow in the same shaking glass.

Shaking. When he started shaking in bed, he called for David, strong-almost too strong- arms held him. What lovely things he'd said Christopher couldn't remember. They were nice, the words, the voice. Guarded with worry. Sorrow.

The wind came silently to snuff the small flame, going out all at once.  
In the dark, Christopher sighed, his head appearing from the white sheets. He breathed in, and never exhaled.  
Green eyes, brown eyes, black eyes white...  
**  
A/n:** Yeah. When I wrote this, I said, I feel like being depressing. So. I want to make someone miserable. stares Shit, that's a freaking awful thing to do! I abandoned all ficdom for a while. Half because I obviously cannot write, and half because I just didn't have any drive. I still don't, but hey. I can just post all sorts of my older stuff, and people can save the fandom by writing stuff that's decent.  
You can download the title song, legally, at Emile Autumn's HP.


	2. Empty Garden

Fading Spiritual

**Part II:** Empty Garden  
**Pairing: **J/C D/C Ganymede/C (all implications)  
**Warning: **Angst, deathfic, self-mutilation

_"He must have been a gardener that cared a lot  
Who weeded out the tears and grew a good crop  
Now we pray for rain, and with every drop that falls  
We hear, we hear your name"  
-Elton John, 'Empty Garden (hey, hey johnny)'_

He looked at the sky. The clouds were a deep blue around the full moon, the air crisp, fluttering the curtains April had hung to make the room feel more relaxing.

The room was empty.

David twisted a hand in the plain white fabric, resting his head against the stone. His fingers tightened, and he pulled the cloth to his face, trying the choking sounds he let slip.

He closed his eyes against the thoughts swimming in his mind. The strong hand curling under his own, before it became frail and limp on cold sheets. The blonde hair catching in the sun as the boy dragged him around fields, before walking hurt him.

Before living hurt him.

The curtains were edged in lace- almost sharp- the swirling, itchy bits scratched his face. His cheeks were red, from the scratches, from keeping something bigger than him inside.

If he closes his eyes, too, maybe it will be just a trick of the light. A bad dream. Nightmares.

David closed is eyes. They were blurry when he opened them, everything in the room appeared as if it was immersed in water. He sank to the cold floor.  
_  
"He's gone."_

In Christopher's room, David pulled the curtains down and cried.

"He's gone."

-fin-

**A/n: **All I have left is Jalil. Jalil was originally the second chapter, and then my computer froze. So. There. One more bout of depression and I'm done. ...Even though I have that other sad fic to finish.


	3. Something To Believe In

**Story:** Fading Spiritual

**Part Three:** Something to Believe In

**Pairing:** implied Christopher/Ganymede; C/J; C/D

**Rating:** M

**Warnings:** Angst, deathfic, self-mutilation

"_In the shadow cast as you were leaving_

_In the beauty of the ending day_

_There is always something to believe in_

_Something..._

_As I watch you slip away"_

_-The October Project, 'Something More Than This'_

Dark hands opened a desk drawer, wood as mahogany as his own skin, where he kept memories.

There was a folded piece of parchment Christopher had made into the classic classroom airplane, until he realized parchment wouldn't fly, it only fell. He was annoyed, Christopher was, because he'd spent so much time getting the creases _just right_ so he could hit Jalil in the back of the head from the doorway.

There were pieces of fabric; a scrap of denim, a bit of a sheet, bloodstained Viking garb that Christopher had worn into some battle, and a shirt Christopher had written on saying, "General Sherman."

Underneath it was a dried flower, given as a joke, a dandelion before it became the white puff that Christopher said you wished on. Apparently, your wish came true if you blew all of the puff out. It wasn't a birthday candle, Jalil had argued, not that either really granted wishes.

Jalil would plant thousands for one chance of wishing Christopher back.

It didn't make sense, it wasn't logical. Christopher's death was shrouded with guilt and pain and denial and tears. Tears that Jalil tried to ignore, but he seemed to be consistently dehydrated every morning.

He was dragging David to the grave soon, not to make their grief and misery that much harder, but to remember, to respect. To continue loving.

It was spring, wind whipping through David's unruly hair; it'd do the same to Christopher's, blonde turning enlightened gold in its rays.

The wind scattered seeds, he saw dandelions, and Jalil sang, voice choked and breath unsteady. "So no one told you life was gonna be this way..."

A few moments later, David clapped, tears falling and a sad smile on his face.

Jalil would remember love.

-Fin-

**A'n:** It took me over a year to write this last part. I think the time was worthwhile.


End file.
